William  Datigbn  JHoettp 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER.     xarno,  $1.10  net.    Post 
age  extra. 

THE  MASQUE  OF  JUDGMENT,    izmo,  $1.50. 
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THE    FIRE-BRINGER 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER 


BY 


WILLIAM  VAUGHN  MOODY 


BOSTON   AND    NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 

press,  Cambnbge 
1904 


COPYRIGHT   1904  BY  WILLIAM  VAUGHN  MOODY 
ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  April,  1004 


"Re.pWe.mq 


And  when  Zeus  determined  to  destroy  the  men  of 
the  brazen  age,  Deukalion^  being  forewarned  by  Pro 
metheus,  built  a  boat,  and  putting  into  it  food  and 
drink,  embarked  with  Pyrrha.  Zeus  sent  a  great 
rain  from  heaven,  so  that  all  men  were  overwhelmed, 
except  a  few  who  fled  to  the  high  places.  Deukalion 
was  driven  upon  the  darkness  of  the  waters  until  he 
came  to  Parnassus ;  and  there,  when  the  rains  had 
abated,  he  landed  and  made  sacrifice,  praying  for  men  to 
repeople  the  earth.  Then  Deukalion  and  Pyrrha  took 
stones,  and  threw  them  over  their  heads ;  those  which 
Deukalion  threw  became  men,  and  those  which  Pyrrha 
threw  became  women.  .  .  .  Also  Prometheus  gave  to 
them  fire,  bringing  it  secretly  in  a  fennel  stalk.  When 
Zeus  learned  of  this,  he  commanded  Hephtestos  to  bind 
the  body  of  Prometheus  upon  Mount  Caucasus;  and 
for  the  theft  of  fire  Prometheus  suffered  this  punish 
ment.  APOLLODORUS. 


M191966 


The  Fire-Bringer  is  intended  as  the  first  mem 
ber  of  a  trilogy  on  the  Promethean  theme,  of  which 
The  Masque  of  Judgment,  already  published,  is  the 
second  member;  but  the  connection  between  the 
present  poem  and  the  one  which  follows  it  in  the 
dramatic  sequence  is  informal,  and  the  action  of 
each  is  complete  in  itself. 


DRAMATIS    PERSONS 

PROMETHEUS 

PANDORA 

DEUKALION 

PYRRHA 

AEOLUS 

LYKOPHON 

ALCYONE 

RHODOPE 

THE  STONE  MEN 

THE  EARTH  WOMEN 

A  PRIEST  OF  ZEUS 

Various  persons,  survivors  of  Deukalion's  flood, 


THE    FIRE-BRINGER 


ACT   I. 

Darkness  covers  the  scene.  Faintly  discernible,  a 
mountain  slope,  backed  by  low  cliffs,  and  beyond 
these  the  upper  stretches  of  the  mountain.  In 
the  cliffs  a  small  cave,  and  before  the  mouth  of 
the  cave  a  rude  altar  of  earth.  Deu kalian  and 
Pyrrha  are  seated  against  the  cliff',  JEolus  lies 
on  his  face  at  their  feet. 

Deukalion. 
Thou  hast  slept  long. 

Pyrrha. 

I  saw  a  burning  lamp 
That  passed   between   the   levret    and   the 

dove 
On  Zeus's  altar,  and  a  smoke  went  up. 


i'          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion. 

Dreams  :  we  are  old.  The  green  heart  and 
the  sear 

He  feeds  with  dreams ;  having  some  pur 
pose  in  it, 

Or  else  His  idleness. 

Pyrrha. 

No  lamp  was  here  ? 
No  fire,  no  light? 

Deukalion. 
Some  fire-sparks  in  the  eyes 

Of  dull  bewildered  beasts  that  came  to 
gaze, 

And  dully  moved  again  into  the  mist. 

They  have  forgot  their  natures,  even  as 
we, 

And  those  who  tremble  yonder  on  the 
heights 

For  fear  the  ebbing  deep  should  mount  again, 

Breathing  this  darkness  have  forgot  our 
selves, 

Our  natures,  and  the  motions  of  our  souls. 


THE   FIRE-BRINGER  3 

Pyrrha. 
Was  not  the  Titan  here?     Seemed  as  he 

stood, 
Behind  him  dawn,  and  in  his  lifted  hand  — 

Deukalion. 

He  came,  in  darkness. 

Pyrrha. 
What  word  should  he  bring  ? 

Deukalion. 

I   feigned  to  sleep.     I   had  no  heart   for 
speech. 

Pyrrha. 
What  did  he,  being  with  us  ? 

Deukalion. 

Stood  awhile 

Watching  thy  slumber ;  touched  the  sleep 
ing  head 
Of  ^Eolus ;  gazed  upward  to  the  heights ; 


4  THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Then  vanished  down  the  slope  :  and  far  be 
low 
Pandora  sang. 

Pyrrha. 
Again  ?  — 

Deukalion. 

I  say  below 

I  heard  her  once,  and  once  upon  the  peaks. 
A  little  after,  thunder  tore  the  sky, 
And  't  was  as  if,  far  off,  unearthly  steeds 
And    cloudy  chariots    plunged    across    the 

dark. 

Hush  fell ;  and,  wailing  like  a  broken  bird, 
I  heard  her  dropping  down  from  rock  to 

rock. 

Then  for  an  endless  season  sat  she  here, 
Her  head  between  her  knees,  and  all  her 

hair 
Spread    like  a  night-pool    in   the    autumn 

woods. 
(Pause.) 

Pyrrha. 
Since  the  loosed  raven  flew,  nor  came  again, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER  5 

And  since  the  black  wind  ceasing  cast  us 

here, 
How  long  should  the  time  be  ? 


Deukalion. 

A  week,  a  month, 
Measureless  years,  some  moments.     Time 

is  dead, 
Drowned   in    the   waste    of  waters ;    or  it 

lies 

Somewhere  abolished  in  the  primal  mud, 
Caught  in  the  rings  of  Python,  whom  at 

dusk 

Of  that  last  day,  peering  in  terror  forth 
Before  we  shut  the  windows  of  our  boat, 
We  heard  hiss  from  the  north  and  from  the 

south, 
And  from  the  east  and  west,  and  saw  him 

lay 
His   circles    round  the   frothy  rim   of  the 

world ; 

Or  fled  above  the  dark,  Time  softly  there 
Laughs  through  the  abyss  of  radiance  with 

the  gods. 


6  THE  F1RE-BRINGER 

Pyrrha. 

Think'st  thou  the  gods  laugh,  now  the  col 
ored  world 

They  sought  to  when  the  spring  was  on  the 
hills, 

And  had  their  stolen  loves  here,  lies  snuffed 
out, 

A  reeking  lamp  ? 

Deukalion. 

Also  therefore  they  laugh  : 
And  therefore  also  do  we  bow  us  down 
In  fear  and  worship. 

Pyrrha. 
Ay,  so.  —  What  sayest  thou  ? 

Deukalion. 

I  say  supernal  laughter  and  smooth  days 
Fill  up  Heaven's  golden  room  !     For  that 

the  earth 
Hath  her  dim   sorrow  and  her  shrouded 

face, 
Should  the  gods  grieve  ? 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER  7 

/ 

Pyrrha. 

Husband,  these  breasts  are  dry 
That  fed  our  many  sons ;  that  head  of  thine 
Is  hoar  with  majesty  of  years  and  rule; 
Much  have  I  learned  of  thee  and  stored  at 

heart 

Concerning  gods  and  men,  the  elder  age 
Of  golden  peace,  the  silver  time  between, 
When  lust  and  strife  began  to  gnaw  the 

world, 

And  these  wild  latter  days.    In  the  ark  also, 
Crouching  in  darkness,  and  upon  this  mount 
Of  weary  darkness,  hast  thou  held  a  torch 
To  light  my  mind  to  patience  of  these  woes 
Through  understanding.     Yet,  behold,  O 

king, 
I  understand  not!    Wherefore  hath  great 

Zeus, 

Thy  likeness  in  the  heavens,  bound  like  thee 
To  shepherd  his  wide  people,  sent  his  floods 
To  whelm  them  up,  shut  from  the  remnant 

clans 

Sun,  moon,  and  stars;  and  for  a  final  curse 
Drawn  from  the  flints  and  dry  boughs  of  the 

pine 


8  THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

The  seed  of  divine  fire,  —  yea,  from  our 

blood. 

Yea,  from  the  secret  places  of  our  frames 
Sucked  up  the  fire  of  passion  and  of  will, 
And  left  us  here  by  the  desolate  black  ebb 
To  rot  and   crumble   with  the  crumbling 

world  ? 
Wherefore  is  this,  O  king  ? 

Deukalion. 

Thyself  hast  said. 

Pyrrha. 

Yet  know  not.  —  Heavy  of  thought !  Make 
me  to  know. 

Deukalion. 

Because  these  latter  days  are  full  of  pride 
And  lust  and  wrangling ;  because  his  skies 

were  vexed 
With  the  might  of  rearing  horses,  and  the 

wheels 
Of  chariots,  and  the  young  men  blowing 

horns 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER  9 

Against  his  citadel ;  because  the  south 

In    all    its    chambers    laughed    a    grievous 

red 

Out  of  the  vineyards  of  its  wantonness ; 
Because  our  fitful  pulses,  when  they  fell. 
Sang  grief,  division,  terror,  shame,  and  loss, 
Troubling  that  harmony  which  is  the  breath 
Of  the  gods'  nostrils,  yea  the  delicate  tune 
To  which  they  pace  their  souls,  and  act  with 

joy 
Their  several  ministries. 

Pyrrha. 

Why  then  so  long 
Do  these  flat  slugs,  that  once  were  statured 

men, 
Cling  to   the   oozy   earth-rind   He   would 

cleanse 
For  some  new  perfect  race?  Why, when  thou 

heard'st 

Prometheus  whisper  thee  his  fearful  news 
That  evening  by  the  farm-gate,  did'st  thou 

grant 
No  sleep  to  slave  or  free,  till  from  the  hills 


io         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

The  mighty  pines  were  dragged,  the  hull- 
beams  laid, 
The  roof-tree  raised,  the  doors  and  windows 

set, 
And  through  the  muttering  thunder  all  thy 

house 

Led  in  to  safety  ?    When  the  holy  fire, 
Brought  by  thine  own  hands  from  the  hearth, 

went  out, 
Why  did'st  thou  bare  thy  white  head  to  the 

storm 

To  fetch  another  brand,  and,  finding  none, 
Come  forth  with  lamentation  ?    Why  were 

seen, 
Through  all  thy  mountain  kingdom,  runners 

stripped, 

And  panted  words,  and  flying  to  the  peaks  ? 
Thou  answerest  not;    but   leaning  darkly 

down 

Over  the  head  of  little  ^Eolus, 
Fingerest  a  tarnished  lock  from  out  the  dust ! 
Speak,  father !  Through  this  numbing  gloom, 

this  death, 
This  veil  of  years,  thy  silence  pierceth  me. 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          n 

Deukalion. 

I  try  to  feel  again  the  thing  I  felt, 
But  cannot,  so  the  sinews  of  my  soul 
Are  loosened.    Yet  't  was  for  this  radiant 

head 

That  all  was  done  defiantly  toward  God. 
His  father  Hellen  and  our  other  sons 
Were  wandering,  or  had  poured  their  life- 
blood  out 

In  obscure  battle.    This  alone  was  left, 
This   little  flower  of  Greece,  for  whom  I 

dreamed 
Kingdoms   and  glories,  plaudits,  trophies, 

palms, 
And  sound   of  deathless    lyres   across  the 

world. 

For  his  sake,  fumbling  in  the  gloom  I  built 
This  altar,  and  have  groped  about  the  rocks 
For  live  thing  worthy  sacrifice ;  have  lain 
In    bush    and    hollow  till   some  dreaming 

bird 

Or  sleep-besotted  beast  fell  to  my  hands, 
And  rent  the  same,  and  offered  it  with  groans 
Upon  the  smokeless  altar. 


12          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pyrrha. 

Once  He  heard, 
Thou  knowest. 

Deukalion. 
I  know.    We  will  not  think  thereon  ! 

Pyrrha. 

The  unwrought  shapes,  the  unmoulded  at 
titudes  ! 
The  tongues  of  earth,  the  stony  craving  eyes ! 

Deukalion. 

Unto  the  husband  was  the  wife's  desire 
No  longer,  nor  the  husband's  to  the  wife. 
The  young  maid  lay  undreamed  on  by  the 

boy. 

The  little  life  that  was,  was  sinking  fast 
Or  sunk  beyond  recall.  God's  doubtful  voice 
Out  of  the  wind  of  the  oak  was  fair  to  hear, 
Seeming  to  promise  store  of  goodly  men, 
And  women  vessels  for  the  flowing  life 
To  enter  and  be  spilled  not.  There  was  hope. 
Prometheus  said  not  nay.    Beside  the  verge 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          13 

Of  the  spent  flood  did  we  not  see  him  stoop, 
Kneading  the  clay  in  with  the  roiled  foam, 
Breathing  and  breathing  with  his  fiery  breath, 
Then  cry  upon  his  work,  and  scattering  it 
Rise  up  in  haste  and  wrath  ?    Yet  here  was 
hope ! 

Pyrrha. 

Yea,  as  I  flung  the  clods,  and  stooped  and 

flung, 

I  dared  not  look  behind,  for  hope  ;  and  thou, 
Stooping  and  flinging  the  allotted  stones, 
Seemed  clothed  in  prime  of  years,  foreseeing 

earth 

With  a  big  breed  replenished ;  till  on  a  sudden 
Terribly  out  of  the  gloom  the  Titan  cried  ; 
Then  we,  ceasing,  beheld,  and  fled  in  fear. 

Deukalion. 

Would  they  might  sit  as  now, removed  apart, 
Brooding  upon  the  ground ;  nor  come  again 
With  vague  slow  motion  up  the  shrouded 

slope, 
Filling  the  mist  with  formless  utterance, 


14         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

As  craving  to  be  born  !    My  men  of  stone 
In  dreams  appal  me  with  their  lifted  hands 
Of  threat  and  supplication,  and  by  thee 
Stand  the  earth-women  pleading. 

Pyrrha. 

Ere  I  slept 

I  was  anhungered.   Searching  for  sweet  roots 
I  crawled  and  groped  my  way,  till  I  was  come 
Unto  a  brackish  water  cupped  and  held 
From  that  same  sea  whereof  the  gurge  but 

then 

Lessened  its  roar  far  down  the  cragged  dark. 
There  by  the  pool  they  sat,  with  faces  lift 
And  brows  of  harsh  attention ;  in  their  midst 
Pandora  bowed,  and  sang  a  doubtful  song, 
Its  meaning  faint  or  none,  but  mingled  up 
Of  all  that  nests  and  housekeeps  in  the  heart, 
Or  puts  out  in  lone  passion  toward  the  vast 
And  cannot  choose  but  go. 

Deukalion. 

In  mockery  sent, 
In  mercy  be  she  taken,  or  on  the  hills 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          15 

Drinking  this  darkness,  wither  and  be  changed 
To  such  as  we  are ! 

Pyrrha. 

Thinkest  thou  that  Zeus 
In  anger  made  her  thus  ? 

Deukalion. 

'Twill  be  so.   When  she  came 
Our  minds  were  dim  and  fearful. 

Pyrrha. 

Very  dim, 
And  blurred  with  fearful  dream  ;  but  —  By 

the  boat 

We  crouched,  and  hearkened  if  the  water  still 
Drew  downward,  or  was  crawling  up  again 
To  seize  us  unaware ;  the  mist  was  full 
Of  beasts  and  men  in  wretched  fellowship ; 
Then  suddenly  a  breath  like  morning  blew ; 
I  saw  as  't  were  a  shadowy  sun  and  moon 
Go  up  the  blinded  sky ;  far  off  yet  near 
I  heard  Prometheus  speaking,  and  her  voice 
In  low  and  happy  answer. 


16         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion. 

He  would  catch 

The  hurled  thunder-bolt,  and  forge  from  it 
A  reaper's  hook ;  the  vials  of  white  wrath 
He  spills  to  make  a  wine-cup  for  a  feast ; 
Curses  he  knows  not  from  the  gifts  of  love  ; 
And  in  the  shadow  of  this  death,  even  here, 
As  low  as  from  her  pitch  of  pride  earth  's 

fallen, 

He  will  be  plotting  that  whereby  to  climb 
And  lift  us  high  above  the  peaks  of  God 
One  dizzy  instant,  ere  we  fall  indeed 
And  he  with  us  forever ! 

Pandora  (sings,  below). 
Along  the  earth  and  up  the  sky 

'The  Fowler  spreads  his  net  : 
O  soul,  what  pinions  wild  and  shy 

Are  on  thy  shoulders  set  ? 
What  wings  of  longing  undeterred 
Are  native  to  thee,  spirit  bird? 

Pyrrha. 

Hearken,  is't  not 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          17 

Her  song  again  ?   Far  down  among  the  vales 
Did'st    hear    it?     Faint    and    far,    but  — 
Hearken  still ! 

Pandora  (sings). 

What  sky  is  thine  behind  the  sky. 

For  refuge  and  for  ecstasy  ? 

Of  all  thy  heavens  of  clear  delight 

Why  is  each  heaven  twain, 

O  soul !  that  when  the  lure  is  cast 

Before  thy  heedless  flight. 

And  thou  art  snared  and  taken  fast 

Within  one  sky  of  light, 
Behold,  the  net  is  empty,  the  cast  is  vain, 
And  from  thy  circling  in  the  other  sky  the  lyric 
laughters  rain  ! 

Deukalion. 

Through    the    gorge    there  —  a  shadow  — 

Pyrrha,  look ! 

Over  the  torrent  bed  and  up  the  slope 
Something  comes  on,  in  stature  more  than 

man, 
And  swifter. 


i8          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pyrrha. 

O  swift-comer,  it  is  thou  ! 
None  other,  thou,  wind-ranger,  bringer-in ! 
Child,  be  awake !  Prometheus  ! 

Prometheus  (entering,  lifts  Pyrrha). 

Do  not  so ; 

These  hands  come  poor ;  these  feet  bring 
nothing  back. 

Pyrrha. 

Thy  hands  come  filled  with  thee,  thy  feet 

from  thence 
Have    brought    thee    hither;    it    is    gifts 

enough. 

Deukalion. 
Is  there  no  hope  ? 

Pyrrha. 

Speak  !  speak  !    Through  this  dark  cloud 
The  eyes  of  Zeus's  eagle  cannot  pierce 
Or  any  listener  heed.    Have  we  a  hope? 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          19 

Prometheus. 

From  earth  and  all  this  lower  realm  of  air 
The  fire  is  gone. 

Pyrrha. 

Thy  searchings  !  —  Giveth  ease 
If  but  to  hear  thy  voice. 

Prometheus  (seats  himself  beside  the  cliff). 

I  clambered  down 
Old  earthquake-cloven  rifts  and  monstrous 

chasms 

Where  long  ago  the  stripling  Titans  peered 
At  play  and  dared  not  venture,  —  found  me 

out 

Flint-stones  so  buried  in  disastrous  rock 
I   thought  the  Darkener  sure  had  passed 

them  by ; 

But  not  a  spark  lived  in  them.  Past  the  walls 
Rhipean,  and  the  Arimaspian  caves, 
I  sought  the  far  hyperborean  day, 
But  not  a  banner  of  their  rustling  light 
Flapped  through  the  sagging  sky,  nor  did 

the  Fates 


20         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Once  fling  their  gleaming  shuttles  east  or 

west. 

By  Indian  Nysa  and  the  Edonian  fount 
Of  Haemus  long  I  lurked,  in  hope  to  find 
Young  Dionysus  as  he  raced  along 
And  wrest  his  pine-torch  from  him,  or  to 

snare 

Some  god-distracted  dancing  aegipan, 
And  from  his  garland  crush  a  wine  of  fire 
To  light  the  passion  of  the  world  again 
And  fill  man's  veins  with  music ;  but  there 

went 
A   voice   of  sighing   through    the   ghostly 

woods, 

And  up  the  mountain  pastures  in  the  mist 
Desolate  creatures  sorrowed  for  the  god. 
Across  the  quenched  ./Egean,  where  of  old 
The  shining  islands  sang  their  stasimon, 
Forever  chorusing  great  hymns  of  light 
Round  Delos,  through  the  driving  dark  I 

steered 

To  seek  Hephaestos  on  his  Lemnian  mount ; 
But  found  him  not.    His  porches  were  o'er- 

thrown, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         21 

His  altar  out,  and  round  his  faded  peak 
The  toiled  Cyclops,  bowing  huge  and  dim, 
Uncouthly  mourned.  .  .  . 
(He  starts  up,  and  gazes  toward  the  mountain-top.) 
Soon  will  the  smouldering  life 
Cease    even    to    smoulder !    I    must   forth 

again. 

But  where?  But  where? 
(Pause.) 

Deukalion. 

Where  suppliants  still  must  go, 
But  with   the  act    of  suppliance,  and  the 

mind. 

Not  stiff  and  rebel  brows,  not  daring  deeds 
Be  of  availment,  but  to  clasp  the  knees 
And  touch  the  beard  of  Zeus.    Within  his 

house 

Still  lives  the  sacred  fire.    JT  is  there  to  have, 
If  one  by  sacrifice  and  rites  full-brought 
Could  find  the  way. 

Prometheus  (laughs). 
'T  is  there  to  have ;  thou  sayst  ! 
One  thistledown  of  fortune  to  the  good 


22          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

And  't  had  been  ravished  thence,  an  hour  ago, 
To  better  uses ! 

Deukalion. 

'T  was  but  so  long  since 
The  thunder  spake.    Across  the  vault  of 

heaven 

Plunged  down  the  shadowy  furnishment  of 
war. 

Pyrrha. 

Thou  *rt   wounded !    Lo,   this    arm    hangs 

helpless  by !  — 
O,  rash  and  overbold !    Thou  —  thou  hast 

dared  — 

The  hermae  holding  vigil  at  heaven's  bound 
Have  cried  thy  name  out,  and  the  shadows 

vast 

Of  perished  gods,  beside  the  inmost  hearth, 
Have  spoken  of  thee,  that  the  soul  of  Zeus 
Hath  shook  with  dreams  of  evil  to  his 

house ! 

Deukalion. 

How  might'st  thou  pass  the  terror  of  his 
ward, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         23 

Tread  his  serenest  citadel,  and  come 
Not    thunder-blasted    hither,   with    slight 
wound  ? 

Prometheus  (flings  himself  again  upon  the 

ground). 

When  each  great  cycle  of  Olympian  years 
Rounds  to  its  end,  there  comes  upon  the 

gods 

Mysterious  compulsion.     As  a  gem 
Borne  from  a  lighted  chamber  into  dusk, 
Heaven  of  its  splendor  disarrays  itself, 
Hushes  its    dyes,  and   all   the   whispering 

sphere 
Hangs  like  a  moon  of  change.     Knowing 

not  why, 

Nor  unto  what,  each  brooding  deity 
Wends  to  the  sacred  old  Uranian  field, 
Where  bloom   old    flowers,  which,  in   the 

morn  of  time, 

Forgotten  gods  did  garland  for  their  hair, 
To  celebrate  some  long-forgotten  joy 
That  then  did  pierce  the  heart  of  the  young 

world. 


24         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Here  gather  they,  with  mute  and  doubtful 

looks 

At  one  another,  waiting  till  She  comes, 
Mnemosyne,  mother  of  thought  and  tears, 
Remembrancer,  and  bringer  out  of  death 
Burden  of  longing  and  sweet-fruited  song. 
Then  toward    the   upper  windows    of  the 

stars, 

The  roof  and  dome  of  things,  the  place  su 
preme 

Of  speculation  inward  on  the  frame 
Of  life  create,  and  outward  on  the  abyss 
That  moans  and  welters  in  the  wind  of  love, 
She  leadeth  up  their  shining  theory, 
And  there  they  stand  and  wonder  on  the 

time 
When  they  were  not  and  when  they  shall 

not  be. 
This  was  my  moment ;  for  I  knew  't  was 

near, 
And  laired  away  among  the  steep-up  crags 

of  day 
That  bastion  and  shore-fast  his    pearl  of 

power, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         25 

His  white  acropolis.     Soft  as  light  I  passed 
The    perilous    gates    that    are    acquainted 

forth, 

The  walls  of  starry  safety  and  alarm, 
The  pillars  and  the  awful  roofs  of  song, 
The  stairs   and    colonnades  whose   marble 

work 

Is  spirit,  and  the  joinings  spirit  also,  — 
And  from   the  well  -  brink   of  his   central 

court 

Dipped  vital  fire  of  fire,  flooding  my  vase, 
Glutting  it  arm-deep  in  the  keen  element. 
Then  backward  swifter  than  the  osprey  dips 
Down  the  green  slide  of  the  sea,  till —  Fool, 

O  fool  ! 
'T  was  in  my  hands  !  'T  was  next  my  bosom ! 

Fierce 
Sang  the  bright  essence  past  my  scorching 

cheek, 
Blown  up  and  backward  as  I  dropped  and 

skimmed 

The  glacier-drifts,  cataracts,  wild  moraines, 
And  walls  of  frightful  plunge.     Upon  the 

shore 


i6         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Of  this  our  night-bound  wretched  earth  I 

paused, 

Lifted  on  high  the  triumph  of  my  hands, 
And  flung  back  words  and  laughter.     As  I 

dropped, 
The  dogs   of  thunder  chased    me    at    the 

heels, 
A  white  tongue  shook  against  me  in  the 

dark, 

And  lo,  my  vase  was  rended  in  my  hands, 
And  all  the  precious  substance  that  it  held 
Spread,  faded,  and  was  gone, — was  quenched, 

was  gone ! 
{Pause.} 

Deukalion  (in  a  low  voice). 

We  cannot  thank  thee,  though  thy  love  be 

love. 
Great  is  thy  heart;  we  cannot  praise  thy 

deed. 

Prometheus. 

It  was  not  therefore  done ! 

Pyrrha. 

For  our  poor  praise, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         27 

For  our  poor  love  and  praise  ;  albeit  now 
The  shouting  of  thy  loud  blood  drowneth 
all! 

Deukalion  (after  a  long  silence). 
Prometheus,  thou  hast  thought  to  be  our 

friend, 

Our   blood-kin,    our   indweller ;    hast    in 
dued 

Vesture  of  our  mortality  and  pain,  — 
Wherefore    if   not    for    pride,    for   fiercest 

pride  ? 
Thou  hast  found  out  wild  pathways  for  our 

treading, 
Whispered  us  Nature's  secrets,  given  to  our 

hand 

The  spirit  of  fire  and  all  its  restless  works, 
Yea,  blown  aflame  our  all  too  eager  blood 
Till    earth   went   red    and    reeling    like    a 

torch 

When  Dionysus  calls  under  the  moon. 
Look  round  thee,  O  storm-sower,  what  we 

reap 
Now  in  the  season's  fullness  !     Is  it  good  ? 


28          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pride  was  thy  lesson,  and  earth  learned  so 

well 
That  she  is  fallen  more  low  than  she  was 

high. 

Prometheus. 
And  shall  be  higher  than  that  height  she 

was, 
By  all  this  depth  she  has  fallen  ! 

Deukalion. 

In  that  day 

Let  Chronos  lift  his  old  abolished  head 
From    mid    Lethean    mallows,    and    dim- 

tongued 
Call  to  thy  shadowy  brothers  where  they 

dream, 

And  leading  up  his  faint  forgetful  host, 
Rive  the  great  diadem  from  Zeus's  brow. 
Then  may  thy  stormy  will  at  last  be  thine  ; 
But  as  for  now,  even  for  thy  earth's  dear 

sake, 

Be  humble,  O  be  humble  !     Bind  thy  hair 
With  willow,  and  put  on  the  iron  ring, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          29 

That  so,  by  walking  fearfully  at  last, 

We  bend    Heaven  from    its   anger.     Else 

shall  man 

Suffer  such  woes  as  now  we  muse  not  of, 
And  thou  such   punishment  as  quails  the 

heart 
To  think  on. 

Prometheus. 

Either  now  with  violent  hand 
We  snatch  salvation  home,  or  here  we  sit 
Till  Python,  hissing  softly  up  the  dark, 
Dizzy  our  lapsed  souls,  and  headlong  down 
We  drop  into    his  jaws,  which   from    the 

first  — 
See,  the  boy  wakes  ! 

Molus  (waking). 

Give  me  to  eat  and  drink. 

Pyrrha. 

Water  and  roots  I  hoarded  in  the  cave. 
I  will  go  fetch  them  forth. 

(She  goes  into  the  cave.) 


30         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion. 

Was  't  well  with  thee 
In  slumber,  child  ? 

ALolus. 

I  know  not.    I  did  sleep. 

Pyrrha  (coming  out). 
The  roots  are  gnawed,  and  the  sweet  water 

spilled. 
Be  patient,  ^Eolus,  I  will  seek  thee  more. 

Deukalion. 

Stay;  let  me  fetch  them  rather.  Thou  wilt  fall, 
Or  meet  some  fear.  The  sluggish  serpents  lie 
And  will  not  move,  though  trodden,  save  to 
sting. 

Pyrrha. 

Thou  knowest  not  where  the  roots  are  still  to 
find. 

Deukalion  (rising  painfully). 
Together  then.  Ah, me!  Where  is  thy  hand? 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         31 

Pyrrha. 
Here,  father.    No,  this  way ! 

(They  go  slowly  out,  feeling  along  the  cliff.) 

Prometheus. 

Poor  poisoned  flower, 
Poor  droop-head,  down  again  ! 

(Stoops  over  sEoIus.) 

Woe  for  the  house, 
Woe  for  the  vineyard,  woe  for  the  orchard 

croft, 

The  oil-tree  and  the  place  of  standing  corn  ! 
Woe  for  the  ships  of  venture !  Woe  on  Him 
Who  sows  and  will  not  gather ;  shame  and  woe 
Who  sendeth  forth  and  when  the  message 

comes 
Makes  deaf  and  strange  ! 

(He  sinks  down  beside  the  cliff.) 

O  Mother  Clymene, 
What  of  the  song-thrush  and  the  morning 

star, 
The  moon  deep-hung  with  increase  down  the 

dawn, 


32          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

The  wet  fields  brightening  fast,  the  hour  thy 

pangs 

Came  on  thee  for  my  sake  ?  What  of  the  earth 
Thou  loved'st  so  well  and  taught'st  me  well 

to  love  ? 
—  Hears  not !    'T  was  long  ago. 

(His  head  falls  upon  bis  knees.) 

One  deep,  deep  hour ! 
To  drop  ten  thousand  fathoms  softly  down 
Below  the  lowest  heaving  of  life's  sea, 
Till  memory,  sentience,  will,  are  all  annulled, 
And  the  wild  eyes  of  the  must-be-answered 

Sphinx, 

Couchant  at  dusk  upon  the  spirit's  moor, 
Blocking  at  noon  the  highway  of  the  soul, 
At  morn  and  night  a  spectre  in  her  gates,  — 
For  once,  for  one  deep  hour  — 
(He  lifts  his  head  slowly,  and  peers  into  the  darkness.) 

Say  who  ye  are 

That  fill  the  night  with  deeper  heaviness ! 
Break  up  your  strangling  circle  and  come  out. 
More,  more,  and  wretcheder  !   A  spirit  pass 
Into  some  old  and  unachieved  world, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         33 

A  storm-fall  in  some  wood  of  rooted  souls ! 
But  O,  what  spirit-piercing  flower  of  life 
Blooms  from  the  wasteful  heap  ? 
(From  among  the  crouching  figures  of  the  Stone  Men 
and  Earth  Women,  Pandora's  voice  is  heard.) 

Pandora  (sings). 
Of  wounds  and  sore  defeat 
I  made  my  battle  stay  ; 
Winged  sandals  for  my  feet 
I  wove  of  my  delay  ; 
Of  weariness  and  fear, 
I  made  my  shouting  spear; 
Of  loss,  and  doubt ,  and  dread, 
And  swift  oncoming  doom 
I  made  a  helmet  for  my  head 
And  a  floating  plume. 
From  the  shutting  mist  of  death, 
From  the  failure  of  the  breath, 
I  made  a  battle-horn  to  blow 
Across  the  vales  of  overthrow. 
O  hearken,  love,  the  battle-horn  ! 
ne  triumph  clear,  the  silver  scorn  ! 
O  hearken  where  the  echoes  bring, 


34  ,       THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Down  the  grey  disastrous  morny 
Laughter  and  rallying  ! 

Prometheus. 

Thou  !   Is  it  thou  ? 

Pandora  (comes  from  among  the  recumbent 
figures,  holding  something  aloft). 

Where  is  Prometheus  ? 

Prometheus. 

I  am  I,  thou  knowest. 

Pandora. 
I  had  a  gift  for  him.    Where  is  he  gone  ? 

Prometheus. 

Give  me  thy  gift.   'T  will  bring  Prometheus 

back 

To  the  high  home  and  fortress  of  his  soul, 
Where  thou  and  he  made  gladness. 

(She  gives  him  a  fennel  stalk.) 

What  is  this  ? 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         35 

Pandora. 
A  hollow  reed.    I  found  it  on  the  hills. 

Prometheus. 

Such  used  the  mothers  in  the  upland  farms 

Fetch  unpolluted  fire  in,  once  a  year. 

To  light  their  hearths  anew;  such  would  the 

girls 
Crown  with  fir-cone  and  smilax  when  they 

heard 

The  frenzied  pipe  call  in  the  midnight  hills. 
And  whisperings  of  anguish  dimmed  their 

blood. 

Pandora. 

Such  had  Prometheus,  were  he  here  again, 
Wreathed  for  his  listening  earth ;  such  had 

he  filled 

With  unpolluted  fire,  and  kindled  new 
The  hearth-cheer  of  the  world. 

Prometheus. 

Earth,  sea,  and  air, 

The  caverned  clouds,  the  chambers  of  the 
storm, 


36         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Yea,  the  thrice  perilous  alps  and  crags  of 

heaven 
Have  watched  the  robber  lurk,  and  laughed 

at  him ! 
Do  not  thou  mock  him  too ! 

Pandora. 

Him  I  will  mock 

Who,  being  thirsty,  climbs  not  to  the  spring, 
But  meanly  drinks  at  rillet  and  low  pool, 
And  thirsteth  still  the  more. 

Prometheus. 

The  spring  ?    The  spring  ? 
(He  hesitates,  then  starts  up  with  a  wild  gesture.) 
I  could  have  done  it  once !    I  could  have 
done  it ! 

Pandora  (coming  nearer). 
Stranger ! 

Prometheus. 
Hush,  look  !    They  rise  at  me  again  ! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          37 

The  Stone  Men. 

When  earth  did  heave  as  the  sea,  at  the  lift 
ing  up  of  the  hills , 

One  said,  "  Te  shall  wake  and  be ;  fear  not, 
ye  shall  have  your  wills" 

We  waited  patient  and  dumb ;  and  ere  we 
thought  to  have  heard, 

One  said  to  us  "  Stay  !  "  and  "  Come  !  "  —  a 
dim  and  a  mumbled  word. 

Mortise  us  into  the  wall  again,  or  lift  us  up 
that  we  look  therefrom  ! 

The  Earth  Women. 
The  night,  the  rain,  and  the  dew  from  of  old 

had  lain  with  us, 
The  suns  and  winds  were  our  lovers  too,  and 

our  husbands  bounteous : 
But  lo,  we  were  sick  at  heart  when  we  leaned 

from  the  towers  of  the  pine, 
We  yearned  and  thirsted  apart  in  the  crimson 

globes  of  the  vine. 
O  tell  us  of  them  that  hew  the  tree,  bring  us 

to  them  that  drink  the  wine  ! 
(They  disappear.) 


38          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Prometheus. 

Only  a  moment  did  they  strain  their  brows 
In  weary  question  at  me,  ere  they  turned 
And  melted  down  into  the  blotting  dark ! 
(He  starts  slowly  down  the  slope.) 

Pandora. 
They  go  to  find  Prometheus. 

Prometheus. 

Of  these  stones 

To  build  my  rumoring  city,  based  deep 
On  elemental  silence ;  in  this  earth 
To  plant  my  cool  vine  and  my  shady  tree 
Whose  roots  shall  feed  upon  the  central  fire ! 
(He  turns  to  Pandora.) 

Love ! 

Pandora. 

Where  thou  goest,  I  am ;  there,  even  now 
I  stand  and  cry  thee  to  me. 

Prometheus  (starts  again  down  the  slope). 

Yea,  I  come, 

I   come;  to  find  somewhere  through  the 
piled  gloom 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         39 

A  mountain  path  to  unimagined  day, 

Build  all  this  anger  into  walls  of  war 

Not  dreamed  of,  dung  and  fatten  with  this 

death 
New  fields  of  pleasant  life,  and  make  them 

teem 
Strange  corn,  miraculous  wine ! 

Pandora  (watching  him  disappear). 

Prometheus,  lord ! 


ACT   II. 

Scene  as  before.  The  space  below  the  cliff's  is  de 
serted  ;  on  the  slope  above,  voices  of  men  and  women 
are  heard. 

First  Voice. 

Peer  farther  down  !    H  ear's t  thou  the  waters 
yet? 

Second  Voice. 

With  sea-slime  and  with  lichen-tangled  shells 
The  rocks  are  strewn,  and  ocean-breathing 

things 
Gasp  in  the  shallow  pools ;  but  the  main 

flood 

Is  sunken  further  than  the  ear  can  hark. 
(They  descend.) 

A  Young  Man's  Voice  (above). 
A  little  strength,  sister,  a  little  strength ! 
Nay  then,  I  die  with  thee. 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         41 

An  Old  Mans  Voice. 

My  son,  my  son, 
Where  art  thou  ?    Answer  me  ! 

Another  Voice. 

Peace.    He  is  dead. 
I  saw  him  sink  upon  the  farther  slope. 
Back  to  him,  if  thou  wilt ;  thou  'It  come  too 

late. 

Chorus  of  Men. 

The  fallen  must  lie  where  they  fell, 
For  the  dead  cannot  succor  the  dead. 

Chorus  of  Women. 

O  when  through  the  valleys  of  hell 
Shall  the  light  of  our  Saviour  be  shed  ? 
(They  descend.    Others  appear  from  above.) 

First  Voice  (above). 
Trust  not  the  sea  !    Look  where  the  frothing 

HP 

Curls  off  the  giant  fang !  Back  to  the  heights ! 

Second  Voice. 
Nay,  fallen  are  the  waters.    It  is  past. 


42          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Third  Voice. 

The  life  we  hurled  from  off  the  temple  crag 
With  supplications  and  with  piercing  song, 
Has  made  thus  much  appeasement.  One 

more  life 

Will  roll  away  the  ocean  of  main  dark ; 
Unless  we  be  forever  doomed  to  lie 
As  now,  blind  bulks  of  sleep,  or  hunger- 
bitten 
To  creep  the  stagnant  bottom  of  the  world. 

Fourth  Voice. 

This  way,  't  is  said,  Deukalion  carried  him. 
Follow  on,  yonder,  where  the  cliff  breaks 
down. 

(They  descend ;  others  follow.  From  the  side,  below 
the  cliff's,  a  muttering  group  presses  in ;  in  their 
midst  are  Deukalion  and  Pyrrha,  who  shield  JEolus 
against  the  cliff.  The  space  about  the  altar  is  filled 
with  indistinct  figures.) 

Deukalion. 

I  am  king,  hear  ye,  am  I  not  the  king  ? 
Higher  than  I  is  none.     Take  me !    Why 
him, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         43 

Little  of  strength  and  wisdom  ?    I  am  wise, 
My  cunning  brain  is  stronger  than  a  host. 
Though  this  my  spear-arm  be  a  little  fallen 
From  when  it  led  you  out  against  the  north, 
I  am  more  terrible  and  mighty  now, 
An  old,  much-seeing  spirit.    In  my  death 
The   gods    will    taste    a   pleasure    and    be 

soothed. 
But  from  this  child,  this  playmate  —  look 

ye  here  — 

This  piece  of  summer's  carelessness,  this  tuft 
Of  hyssop  planted  by  the  wells  of  glee,  — 
What  honor  should  the  dread  gods  have  on 

him  ? 
They  shall  have  me,  Deukalion  — 

A  Mans  Voice. 

Bring  not  on  us 
With  wordy  shifts,  the  last  steep   horror 

down ! 
That  is   no   babe  thy  withered  arm   hides 

there. 

We  know  him  ;  we  have  seen.    If  he  might 
live 


44         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

His  name  would  fill  the  future,  and  make 

big 

The  story  of  his  folk.    He  is  our  best, 
Our  soul  of  price,  and  him  the  gods  demand, 
Together  with  the  maid,  whose  father  here — 
O   how  much    more  a  kinglier   will    than 

thou !  — 

Deukalion. 

Where  art  thou,  Lykophon?    Mine   eyes 
are  dim. 

Lykophon. 
Here  by  the  altar. 

Deukalion. 
And  thy  child  ? 

Lykophon. 

Here  too. 

Deukalion. 

Thy  heart  is  firm  to  do  it  ?  Thou  wilt  live, 
And  think  on  't  after  ?  Ay,  remember  that ! 
Hast  weighed  that  with  the  rest  ? 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         45 

Lykophon. 

He  was  my  slave. 
Whose  crazed  old  voice  cried  yonder  of  his 

son. 

Was  it  to  win  a  remnant  of  dim  days, 
A  handful  of  poor  mealtimes  and  to-beds, 
He  offered  him  ?    To  watch  some  mornings 

rise. 
Some  evenings  fall,  fringing   with   fearful 

light 
The  cliff  he  hurled  him  from  to  the  hungry 

sea? 
Am  I  a  lesser  than  my  bondman  is  ? 

Deukalion. 
Yea,  ye   will   teach   me,  and   I'll   bear  it 

tame ! 

I  know  what  fits  a  king,  what  he  must  pay 
In  peace  of  soul  and  heart's  blood  for  his 

folk. 
King-drownling  of  an  island  of  drowned 

dogs, 
Wolves,  snakes,  and  field-rats,  crept  from 

out  the  flood 


46          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

For  hunger  and  the  hell-bred  fog  to  rot ! 
Rot  ye !    I  '11  keep  my  own. 

Lykophon  (to  the  crowd). 

Back,  back,  I  say  ! 
The  gods  despise  enforced  offerings. 
When  the  heart  brings  its  dearest  and  its 

last 

Then    only   will    they   hear  —  if   then,    if 
then! 

Deukalion. 

Be  this  life  taken,  what  is  left  ?    O  friends, 
O  wretched  children,  lift  your  hearts  and 

eyes, 
Look  through  the  death-dark  hither  and  be 

known 
On  what  you  ask ;  think  on  yourselves,  on 

me, 
On  them  that  keep  the  heights,  and  who 

lie  strewn 
Along  the  downward    path.    See   how  the 

price 
Doth  shame  the  purchase ! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         47 

A  Mans  Voice. 

We  have  thought  on  these, 
And  find   they  are   our  brothers  and  our 

friends, 

Our  parents,  children,  wives ;  and  that  they 
die. 

Lykophon. 

Not  they  alone.    The  past,  the  future  dies. 

A  Woman  s  Voice. 
Hark  what  he  says  !  He  knows  not,  yet  he 

says ! 

None  of  you  know.    I  have  cried  unto  you 
And  told  you  of  it,  but  you  will  not  know ! 
You  will  not  listen  what  I  carry  here 
Under  my  heart,  and  feed  and  shelter  now, 
That  then  shall  be  the  bread  and  wine  of 

the  world, 

The  torch  and  sword  and  lyre,  the  water- 
brook, 

The  lion-gate  and  wall  of  many  towers, 
The  marshaler  of  dances, — there,  O  there 
Beyond  the  shadow  and  the  sorrow,  far 
In    God's    new  garden,  His    green  virgin 
mount ! 


48          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Chorus  of  Women. 
Would,  would  we  might  be  silent,  for  we 

know 

Though  now  He  puts  us  by, 
Though  now  He  heeds  us  not  nor  hearken- 

eth, 

The  groping  of  our  anguish  up  the  sky 
Will  wean  and  wear  Him  so 
That  in  the  vexed  sendings  of  His  breath 
He  will  breathe  out  a  deeper  than  the  gloom 
Of  our  deep  doom, 

And  put  in  death  a  sting  sharper  than  death. 
(Distant  thunder?) 

Chorus  of  Men. 

Seize  them  and  stifle  up  their  irking  lips ! 
He  grudgeth  at  us,  but  forgetteth  where 
He  felt  our  spreaded  palms,  and  was  aware 
Of  fierce  and  tedious  prayer. 
Yonder  of  us  night  darkens  with  His  frown ; 
Far  off,  and  all  forgetfully  He  drips 
His  drowsy  anger  down. 

(The  thunder  rolls  nearer,  and  terrific  storm  sweeps 
over  the  scene). 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         49 

A  Woman  s  Voice. 

Ah,  no,  He  smiteth  us  !    His  lightning  leaps 
From  end  to  end  of  the  world ! 

A  Man's  Voice. 

His  thunder  shakes 

The  pillars  of  the  dark.     Lo,  up  above 
The  roof  of  darkness  ruins  and  lets  in 
Thrice  horrible  night ! 

Another  Voice. 

Alas,  the  wind,  the  wind ! 
The  trampling  and  the  bellowing  herds  of 

rain 
Loose  on  the  mountain  slopes  !    Bow  down ! 

Bow  down ! 

Deukalion  (gropes  forward  through  the  tem 
pest  and  lifts  ^Eolus  upon  the  altar). 
Lord,  stretch  thy  hand  and  take  him  !    He 
is  thine. 

Lykophon. 

What  criest  thou,  Deukalion  ? 


50         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion. 

Take  the  child. 
The  gods*  dark  will  be  done!    I  am  content. 

(He/alls.) 

Lykophon  (bending  over  him). 

Deukalion ! 

Pyrrha. 

Husband  !     Father !     Speak,  look  up  ! 

Lykophon  (rising). 
The  king  is  down.     Here    in  his  mighty 

room 

I  stand  up  over  you  !     Where  is  the  priest 
Who  serves  the  altar  on  God's  mountain 

top? 

A  Man's  Voice. 

Yonder  he  crouches,  and  his  sacred  eyes 
Are  set  athwart ;  he  wanders  in  his  wit. 

Lykophon. 

Prepare  him   for   his   ministry.  .  .  .  And 
thou, 


THE   FIRE-BRINGER         51 

Alcyone,  sweet  head  !     Thou  keepsake  life 
Left  me  for  memory,  thou  precious  seal 
Stamped  with  her  mystic  love-sign  unto  me, 
I  put  her  blessing  on  thee  ;  and  do  thou 
Kiss  me,  and  put  her  blessing  upon  me 
For  this  I  do. 

(fie  lifts  her  upon  the  altar.) 
Weep  not.  —  Room  for  the  priest ! 
(The  priest  advances,  holding  the  sacrificial  knife.) 

Pyrrha  (flings  herself  before  the  altar). 
Hold  off  your  hands,  hold  off!     The  king 

is  fallen, 
And  falling  spake  somewhat.     But  I,  who 

drank 

Of  his  deep  will,  who  ever  was  and  am 
His  heart's  high  furtherer,  cry  over  him 
Ye  shall  not  touch  them  yet !     Not  yet  ye 

shall ! 
Not   till    Prometheus    comes    or  makes   a 

sign! 

Lykophon. 
Thou  see'st  the  gray  eternities  of  time 


52         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

That  we  have  waited,  till   our  minds    are 

crazed 
With  watching,  and  our  all  o'er-hearkened 

ears 

Hear  silence  roar  and  mutter  like  a  sea ; 
And  still  he  comes  not,  and  no  word  comes 

past 
The  crouching   places    and    close    lairs  of 

death. 

A  Man's  Voice. 
Yet  he  will  come:  his  haughty  soul  shall 

not 
Be  hindered  of  its  walk. 

Priest. 

Behind  the  wall 

A  thief  was  taken,  and  his  sons  at  dawn 
Said  "  Now  he  comes  with  purchase  ;  we 

will  feast,"  — 

Even  while  the  ravens  on  his  glazing  eyes 
Were  feasted,  and  the  master  of  the  house 
Said,  "  I  have  judged  him   and  forgotten 
him." 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          53 

Ye    blind    and    credulous,    ye    whispering 

things ! 
Mutterers,    collusioners !     What   wait   we 

for? 

Chorus  of  Women. 
O  that  our  spirits  might  not  thus 
Afflict  us,  making  pictures  on  the  dark, 
And  giving  silence  tongues  to  cry  against 

us  ! 
For  though  we  shut  our  ears  and  will  not 

hark, 
And    blind    our   eyes    from    seeing,  he    is 

there ; 

The  dust  of  heavenly  battle  dims  his  hair, 
The  large  gods  close  about  him,  he  is  down  ; 
Now  thrice  three  times  about  the  shining 

town 

The  thunder- winged  chariot  drags  his  corse; 
And  now  they  bind   him    to    the   winged 

horse 
With  chains  of  burning  light ;  the  portent 

rears  away 
O'er  prairies  of  insufferable  day ! 


54         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Chorus  of  Men. 
'Twixt  Berenice's  tangled  hair 
And  that  blue  region  of  the  morning  where 
The  bright  wind-shaken  Lyre 
Sheds   down   the   dawn  its  spilth  of  silver 

fire, 

We  saw  him  stoop  and  run  upon  the  air, 
Shielding   from    region    gusts    the    stolen 

flame ; 

But  from  a  steep  cloud  warping  up  the  west 
A  curse  of  lightning  came. 
With  tort-flung  neck  and  clutched  breast 
He  fell,  a  ruined  star ; 
And  now  the  char 

Had  quenched  itself  with  hissing,  in  the  sea, 
But  lo,  again  his  soul  flamed  gloriously  ! 
The  eagle  tempest,  gyring  from  its  place, 
Seized  him,  and  whirled, 
And  hung  him  on  the  plunging  prow  of  the 

world, 

To  shed  the  anguish  of  his  face 
Upon  the  reefs  and  shoals  of  space, 
To  lighten  with  the  splendor  of  his  pain 
Earth's  pathway  through  the  main, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          55 

Though  death  was  all  her  freightage,  and 

the  breath 
That  swelled  her  sails  was  death. 

A  Man's  Voice. 

He  will  not  come.    I  heard  an  old  bard  once 
Sing  of  him,  saying  Titan  lapetos 
Fathered  him  not ;  his  mother  Clymene, 
Wandering  in  the  morning  of  the  world, 
Suffered  human  embraces.    'Twill  be  so, 
For  he  is  human-minded,  and  too  slight 
To  wrest  from  God's  hand  the  withholden 

fire. 

Second  Voice. 

Hearken !   One  sings  upon  the  upper  slopes. 

Third  Voice. 

'T  is  she,  the  other  gift  in  mockery  sent, 
Pandora. 

Fourth  Voice. 

Haunting,  cruel  to  the  heart. 
She  opens  sunny  doors,  which  ere  we  look 
Are  closed  foreverlasting,  and  their  place 
Not  to  be  guessed. 


56          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Fifth  Voice. 

This  was  another  thing 
Prometheus  did.    Whom  the  gods  sent  in 

wrath 

To  make  us  know  how  wondrous  was  the  life 
That  inchmeal  they  took  from  us,  even  her 
He  chose  out  for  his  love,  and  even  here 
He  made  his  bridals. 

Sixth  Voice. 

Some  say  't  is  not  so, 
But  she  Pandora  is  a  child  he  had 
Before  the  sea  rose  and  the  night  came  down, 
And  others  say  his  sister,  whom  he  fetched 
From  Hades,  where  she  was  with  Clymene, 
Being  childed  late,  after  the  Titans  fell. 

A  Woman  s  Voice. 

Hush,  hark,  the  pouring  music  !   Never  yet 
The  pools  below  the  waterfalls,  thy  pools, 
Thy  dark  pools,  O  my  heart  — ! 

A  Young  Mans  Voice. 

Delirious  breast ! 
She  jetteth  gladness  as  a  sacred  bird. 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          57 

That  o'er  the  springtime  waves,  at  large  of 

dawn, 

Off  Delos,  to  the  wakening  Cyclades 
Declares  Apollo. 

A  Girl's  Voice. 

Once  more,  once  more,  O  sisters,  ere  we  die 
I  will  lift  up  my  cry 
To  Him  who  loved  us  though  He  puts  us 

by. 

For  yonder  singer  with  the  golden  mouth 
Hath  fallen  upon  us  privily  as  falls 
The  still  spring  out  of  the  south 
On  the  shut  passes  and  locked  mountain 

walls, 

And  suddenly  from  out  my  frozen  heart 
Dark  buds  of  sorrow  start, 
Freshets  of  thought  through  my  faint  being 

roll, 
And  dim  remembrance  gropes  and  travails 

in  my  soul. 

I  will  cry  on  Him  piercingly 

By  reason  of  my  girlhood  how  it  ailed, 

Then  when  I  seemed 


58          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Unto  myself  a  thing  myself  had  dreamed, 
And  for  whose  sake  the  visionary  Spring 
High  in  the  chilly  meadows  where  she  stood 
With  lips  of  passionate  listening 
In  the  sea-wind  above  the  moaning  wood, 
Scattered  her  discrowned  hair,  and  bowed 

herself,  and  wailed. 
And  then,  a  little  after,  came  a  day 
That  loosed  my  bands  of  ailing  all  away ; 
For  somewhere  in  the  wilds  a  spirit  spoke, 
The  ghostly  earth  went  past  me  like  a  stream, 
And  swooning  suddenly  aloft  I  woke 
To  an  intenser  dream. 
Would  mine  were  that  same  spirit's  tongue 

to  tell 

The  joy  that  then  befell, — 
Rather  befell  not,  but  refrained, 
Lurked  and  withdrew, 
And  was  an  inner  freshness  in  the  dew, 
A  look  inscrutable  the  stars  put  on, 
A  fount  of  secret  color  in  the  dawn, 
After  day-fall  a  daylight  that  remained 
Brighter  than  what  was  gone. 
O  sisters,  kiss  the  numbing  death  away 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         59 

From  off  my  heavy  lips,  and  let  me  say 
How  fair  my  summoned  spirit  blossomed  in 

its  clay, 

When  the  girls  sang  of  me  that  I  was  his 
Whose  voice  I  heard  treading  the  wilderness; 
And  I  had  followed  him  as  the  homing  dove 
That  furtive  way  he  went, 
Till  now  he  had  brought  me  up  into  his  tent, 
Where  flutes  made  mention  of  love,  and  wild 

throats  said 
With  wine  and  honey  of  love  were  his  tables 

spread, 

Also  the  banner  over  us  was  love ! 
(Pause.) 

A  Woman's  Voice. 

Look,  Pandora  comes ! 
See,  there  above  the  cliff  she  glimmers  down, 
And  darker  shapes  come  with  her. 

A  Man's  Voice. 

The  big  seed 

Deukalion  and  Pyrrha  sowed  in  hope 
To  reap  in  terror ;  the  scarce-featured  sons 
Of  stone,  and  daughters  of  the  sullen  glebe. 


60         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion  (waking). 
Pyrrha  !    Where  art  thou  ? 

Pyrrha. 

'T  is  my  face  thou  feelest, 
Thy  groping  hands  are  even  on  me,  father. 

Deukalion. 
Who    are    these  ?    How  is  't  with  us  ?    O 

wherefore 
Gaze  ye  all  thus  aloft? 

Pyrrha. 

Pandora  comes. 

Deukalion. 

I  see  naught.    Since  a  little  while  mine  eyes 
And  brain  are  faded.    Help  mine  eyes  to 

see. 

Pyrrha. 

She  pauses  on  the  margin  of  the  cliff. 
About  her  are  the  shapes  of  them  who  rose 
Behind  us,  when  we  sowed  the  heavy  seed. 
Her  either  hand  is  on  a  kneeling  head, 


THE  F1RE-BRINGER         61 

Female  and  male  ;  her  forehead  more  than 

theirs 

Is  lifted  up  in  yearning,  and  her  face 
Is  like  the  lyrist's  when  at  first  he  waits 
And  drifts  his  heart  up  through  the  cloudy 

strings. 

A  Man's  Voice. 
Take  heed  there  to  the  lad,  where  he  hath 

risen 

His  height  upon  the  altar  !    And  the  maid 
Is  risen.    Look  to  them  ! 

Pyrrha. 

Children  !    jEolus  ! 
What  is 't  with  you  ?    What  search  ye  in 

the  heavens  ? 

O,  to  what  high  thing  do  your  spirits  strain 
And  your  hands  tremble  up  ? 

Molus  and  Alcyone  (looking  and  pointing 
upward). 

The  stars  !    The  stars  ! 
(Pause.) 


62          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion. 
Why  hath  so  deep  a  hush  fallen  on   the 

night  ? 

I  heard  a  whispering   cry.    What  whisper 
they  ? 

Pyrrha. 

^Eolus  pointed  —  whispering  of  the  stars. 

Molus. 
./Eolus  —  stars.    Pyrrha  ! 

Pyrrha. 

With  thee ! 
Deukalion. 

Spakest  thou 
Of  stars  ? 

Pyrrha. 

Ay,  so  he  whispered  ! 

Deukalion. 

Thou  —  and  thou  ? 

Pyrrha. 
Nothing,  nothing.    My  soul  was  as  a  lake 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         63 

Spread  out  in  utter  darkness ;  to  its  depth 
There  pierced  a  silvery  trembling  — 

Deukalion. 

Look  again. 
Wife,  cease  to  pray  !    Look  out  again ! 

Pyrrha. 

The  dark 

Gathers  and  flees,  and  the  wide  roof  of  night 
Leans  in  as  it  would  break  ;  the  mountain 
ous  gloom 

Unmoors,  and  streameth  on  us  like  a  sea. 
O  Earth,  lift  up  thy  gates  !    It  is  the  stars  ! 
It  is  the  stars  !    It  is  the  ancient  stars ! 
It  is  the  young  and  everlasting  stars ! 

Pandora  (sings). 

Because  one  creature  of  His  breath 
Sang  loud  into  the  face  of  death^ 
Because  one  child  of  His  despair 
Could  strangely  hope  and  wildly  dare, 
'The  Spirit  comes  to  the  Bride  again. 
And  breathes  at  her  door  the  name  of  the 
child; 


64         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

"  This  is  the  son  that  ye  bore  me  !  When 
Shall  we  kiss,  and  be  reconciled?  " 

Furtive,  dumb,  in  the  tardy  stone. 

With  growings  sweet  in  the  patient  sod, 

In    the   roots  of  the  pine,  in  the  crumbled 

cone, 

With  cries  of  haste  in  the  willow-rod,  — 
By  pools  where  the  hyla  swells  his  throat 
And  the  partridge  drums  to  his  crouching  mate, 
Where  the  moorland  stag  and  the  mountain 

goat 

Strictly  seek  to  the  ones  that  wait,  — 
In  seas  aswing  on  the  coral  bar, 
In  feasting  depths  of  the  evening  star, 
In  the  dust  where  the  mourner  bows  his  head, 
In  the  blood  of  the  living,  the  bones  of  the 

dead,  — 

Wounded  with  love  in  breast  and  side, 
The  Spirit  goes  in  to  the  Bride  ! 

Pyrrha. 

The  veil  that  hid  the  holy  sky  is  rent ; 
The  vapors  ravel  down  ;  and  a  bright  wind 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          65 

Blows,  that  the    planets   and  the    shoaled 

worlds 
Stoop  from  their  dance,  and  wheel  and  shout 

again, 

Scattering  influence  as  a  maenad  shakes 
Pine  sparks  and  moon-dew  from  her  whirl 
ing  hair. 

And  hark,  below,  the  many-voiced  earth, 
The  chanting  of  the  old  religious  trees, 
Rustle  of  far-off  waters,  woven  sounds 
Of  small  and  multitudinous  lives  awake, 
Peopling  the  grasses  and  the  pools  with  joy, 
Uttering  their  meaning  to  the  mystic  night ! 

A  Mans  Voice. 

Within  my  soul  there  is  a  rushing  down 
Like  darkness,  and  my  being,  as  a  heaven, 
Soareth  apparent,  as  a  heaven  with  stars. 
A  heaven  hung  with  stars  my  spirit  is, 
And  all  among  them  walks  a  wind  of  will, 
Uttering  life,  and  purpose,  and  desire ! 

A  PTomans  Voice. 

O  for  the  dreaming  herbs,  the  whispering 
trees, 


66          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

And  rustling,  far-off  waters  of  my  heart ! 
O  for  the  mystic  night  risen  within  me  ! 
The  multitudinous  life,  the  busy  sounds 
Of  woven  love,  the  hushed  and  pouring  love, 
The  pouring  love  and  stillness  of  the  night! 

Deukalion. 

Wife,  wife,  what  falleth  since  ? 

Pyrrha. 

A  stir  of  joy 

Troubles  the  fields  of  air  'twixt  star  and  star. 

Across  the  quivering  acres,  by  and  large, 

An  unimaginable  Reaper  goes, 

And  where  he  walks  the  heavens  are  seldom- 
sown; 

Till  o'er  wan  earth  the  spreaded  heavens  are 
bare, 

Save  for  one  mighty  star  that  gathers  light 

And  stands  like  a  flushed  singer  telling  glory. 

Now  he,  now  even  he  has  no  dominion, 

For  he  has  looked  behind  him  to  the  moun 
tains, 

O,  he  has  looked  up  to  the  lovely  mountains 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          67 

Of  the  unimagined  morning,  and  has  heark 
ened 

The  pouring  of  the  chill,  eternal  urns  ! 
Over  the  solemn  world  gray  habitation 
Wonders  at  habitation.    Room  by  room, 
The  heavens  tremble  and  put  on  delight, 
Ignorant  one  to  another  why  it  is 
The  festal  wish  compels  them.    They  are 

brightened 

Under  the  feet  of  many  breathless  spirits, 
Who,  lifting  up  their  hands  by  the  springs 

of  ocean, 
Cried  "  Psean  !  "  and  "  O,  Hymen  !  "  As  a 

stream 

Silvereth  in  a  wind-start,  heaven  is  brightened 
Under  the  speed  and  striving  of  those  spir 
its,— 

Who  now,  even  now  dissolve,  and  leave  be 
hind  them 

Only  their  gladness  and  their  speed ;  for  now 
Through  all  its  height  and  frame  of  living 

light, 

Through   all   its  clear    creation,    breathing 
depths 


68          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

And  fleeing  distances,  the  sacred  sky 
Pulses  and  is  astonished  like  a  heart ; 
It  looketh  inward  and  bethinks  itself, 
Outward,  and  putteth  all  its  question  by, 
To  shine  and  soar  and  sing  and  be  at  one  !  — 
Nearhand  the  slopes  drink  light,  and  far 

about 

Among  the  mountain  places,  headlands,cliffs, 
Lone  peaks,  and  brotherhoods  of  battlement 
Shout,  having  apprehended.  —  Paler  grow 
The  gulfs  of  shadowy  air  that  brim  the  vales  ; 
As  ocean  bateth  in  her  thousand  firths, 
The  gray  and  silver  air  draws  down  the  land. 
The  little  trees  that  climb  among  the  rocks 
As  high  as  they  can  live,  pierce  with  their 

spires 

The  shoaling  mist,  swim  softly  into  light, 
And  stand  apparent,  shapely,  every  one 
A  dream  of  divine  life,  a  miracle. 
Chasms  are  cloven  in  the  violet 
And  amethystine  waters  of  the  air ; 
Forests  and  winding  rivers  of  the  plain 
Are  given  and  withdrawn  ;  a  moment  since 
I  saw,  I  thought  I  saw  a  strength  of  hill 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          69 

Uplifted  far  below  us,  built  upon 
With  what  was  once  a  lordly  place  of  souls, 
A  carved  and  marble  place  of  puissant  souls, 
Builded  to  such  strong  music  that  the  sea 
Had  hardly  heaved  one  lintel  from  its  post, 
Or  marred  one  face  of  all  the  sculptured  men, 
Or  shaken  from  his  seat  one  musing  god. — 
Again  the  air  is  cloven ;  I  have  seen 
Fane-crowned  promontories,  curving  sweeps 
Of  silver  shore,  islands,  and  straits,  and  bays  ; 
And  bright  beyond,the  myriad  ocean  stream. 
And  O,  beyond — beyond  !  —  O  shelter  me  ! 
Bow  down  !    Cover  your  eyes  ! 

Confused  Voices. 

Terrible  wings  ! — 

Light  awfuller  than  darkness  or  the  sea  !  — 
O  spirit  of  sharp  flame  amid  the  burning ! 

A  Boys  Voice. 

My  hands  are  on  my  eyelids,  and  my  knees 
Shelter  my  face.    O  mother,  lay  thy  breast 
About  me,  and  shut  out  the  killing  light, 
Before  my  eyeballs  and  my  brain  be  dead  ! 


yo         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion   (on    his    knees,  with    out 
stretched  hands). 

Of  late  mine  eyes  were  quenched,  and  now  I 
see. 

Pyrrha. 

Thine  eyelids  are  not  open,  but  thy  face 
Searcheth  into  the  radiance.     Father,  cease  ! 
Look  not  upon  it  with  thy  soul.    Thy  face 
Is  terrible  with  beauty  in  the  light. 
I  cannot  look  upon  thy  seeing  face. 
Take  not  the  mortal  glory  on  thy  face  ! 
Bow  down  —  O  let  me  shield  thy  sightless 
eyes  ! 

Deukalion. 

Burning  is  laid  unto  the  roots  of  the  world  ; 
The    deep    spouts    conflagration  from  her 

springs ; 

And  fire  feeds  on  the  air  that  feeds  the  stars. 
Out  of  the  sea  has  burst,  from  rended  deeps 
Of  the  unthought-on  rearward  has  leapt  out 
The  appearance  of  the  glory  of  the  sun, 
Filling  the  one  side  of  the  roaring  world 
With  creatures  and  with  branch-work  of  pale 

fire ; 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         71 

And  through  the  woods  of  fire  the  beasts  of 

fire, 

The  birds  and  serpents  and  the  naked  souls 
Flee,  that  their  fleeing  startles  the  slow  dead 
Through  all  their  patient  kingdoms,  and  the 

gods 

In  their  faint  spheres  are  flown  and  passion 
ate. 

A  Mans  Voice. 

My  soul  is  among  lions.    God,  my  God, 
Thou  see'st  my  quivering  spirit  what  it  is  ! 
O  lay  not  life  upon  it !    We  not  knew 
The  thing  we  asked  for.    We  had  all  forgot 
How  cruel  was  thy  splendor  in  the  house 
Of  sense,  how  awful  in  the  house  of  thought, 
How  far  unbearable  in  the  wild  house 
That  thou  hast  cast  and  builded  for  the  heart ! 

Lykophon. 
Deukalion,  speak  again  ! 

Pyrrha. 

If  yet  thy  flesh 
Endure  to  look  upon  it,  speak  again. 


72         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukahon. 

His  soul  is  strong  and  will  deliver  him  ! 
The  feature  of  his  anguish  and  his  joy 
Makes    dim    the   light   adjacent,    and    his 

soul 

Is  bright  to  overcome.    He  treads  the  glory 
Over  against  the  roaring,  hitherward. 
Seeing  the  taper  of  small  excellent  light 
He  lifteth  in  his  hand,  the  night  rolls  on 
Before  him,  and  day  follows  after  him. 
The  hours,  the  months,  the  seasons,  and  the 

times 
Acknowledge  him ;  the  waste  calls  to  the 

sown ; 

The  islands  and  hoar  places  of  the  sea 
Sing,  as  the  chief  of  them  that  are  taught 

praises. 

About  his  torch  shineth  a  dust  of  souls, 
Daughters  and  sons,  who  fly  into  the  light 
With  trembling,  and  emerge  with  prophecy  ; 
And  round  about  goeth  a  wind  of  tongues, 
A  wind    as   of  the    travailing    of  the   na 
tions  ; 
Vast  sorrow,  and  the  cry  of  desperate  lives 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          73 

To  God,  and  God  to  them  crying  or  answer 
ing. — 

Child !    JEolus  !    My  child.    Where  is  my 
child  ? 

Pyrrha. 

I  cannot  see ;  the  dazzle  of  his  coming 
Makes  blind  the  place.    Here,  father,  in  thy 

knees ! 
Feel,  't  is  the  darling   head !  Wild  comer, 

when? 

Hasten,  have  pity,  we  are  nothing  strong ! 
Father,  how  is  't  with  thee  ?    Why  bow'st 

thou  down  ? 

Thy  hand  is  cold,  thy  lips  are  very  cold. — 
O  gone,  O  gone,  even  at  the  entering-in ! 

A  Voice. 
Who  are  these  coming  down,  that  they  are 

mighty 

To  walk  with  foreheads  forward  to  the  light, 
Singing  the  mortal  radiance  to  its  face  ? 

A  Voice. 
It  is  Pandora  and  the  unborn  men, 


74         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Deukalion's  seed.   She  doth  it  of  her  power, 
They  of  their  weakness. 

Pandora  (sings,  invisible  in  the  light). 
Te  who  from  the  stone  and  clay 
Unto  godhood  grope  your  way, 
Hastening  up  the  morning  see 
Tonder  One  in  trinity  ! 


Earth  Women. 
Save  us,  flaming  'Three  ! 

Pandora. 

Dionysus  hath  the  wine, 
Eros  hath  the  rose  divine, 
Lord  Apollo  hath  the  lyre  : 
'Three  and  one  is  the  soul's  desire. 

The  Stone  Men. 
Save  us,  sons  of  fire  ! 

A  Woman*  s  Voice. 

Listen,  they  have  passed. 
They  go  with   singing  forward  down  the 
light. 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         75 

Prometheus  (below,  invisible). 
Thou  gavest  me  the  vessel ;  it  is  filled. 

Pandora. 
I  am  the  vessel,  and  with  thee  't  is  filled. 

(Pause.) 

Lykofhon  (whispers). 
Pyrrha ! 

Pyrrha. 
Who  whispers  me  ? 

Lykophon. 

Is  he  not  come  ? 
Is  he  not  busied  by  the  altar  there  ? 

Pyrrha. 

Nay —  Lo,  the  terrible  taper  !    It  is  he  ! 
I  see  him  not ;  my  spirit  seeth  him ; 
My  heart  acheth  upon  him  busied  there. 
—  Deukalion,  O  Deukalion  ! 

Prometheus  (from  the  altar). 

Pyrrha  !  Pyrrha  ! 


76          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pyrrha. 
Prometheus,  saviour ! 

Prometheus. 

Lykophon ! 

Lykophon. 

Lo,  me  ! 
Prometheus. 
Bring  me  your  children  hither. 

Pyrrha  and  Lykophon  (groping  forward  with 
^Eolus  and  Alcyone). 

Here  are  they ! 

Prometheus. 

Unto  this  twain,  man-child  and  woman- 
child, 

I  give  the  passion  of  this  element; 

This  seed  of  longing,  substance  of  this 
love ; 

This  power,  this  purity,  this  annihilation. 

Let  their  hands  light  the  altar  of  the  world. 

'T  is  yours  forever.    I  have  brought  it  home ! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         77 

(The  radiant  mist  fades ;  it  is  clear  day,  flooded  with 
morning  sunlight.  The  children  apply  the  burn 
ing  reed  to  the  fuel,  and  fire  flames  high  upon  the 
altar.  Pandora's  voice  is  heard  faintly,  far  below.) 

Pandora. 

Too  far,  too  far,  though  hidden  in  thine  arms ; 

Too  darkly  far,  though  lips  on  lips  are  laid! 

Love,  love,  I  am  afraid; 

I  know  not  where  to  find  thee  in  these  storms 

That  dashed  thy  changed  breast  my  breast 
upon, 

Here  in  the  estranging  dawn. 

Unsteadfast !  who  didst  call  and  hast  not 
stayed. 

Tryst-breaker  !  I  have  heard 

Thy  voice  in  the  green  wood,  and  not  de 
ferred  :  — 

O  fold  me  closer,  fugitive  one,  and  say  where 
thou  art  gone  ! 

Nay,  speak  not,  strive  not,  sorrow  not  at  all! 
O,  dim  and  gradual !  — 
Beloved,  my  beloved,  shall  it  be  ? 


78          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Keep  me,  keep  me  with  thy  kiss, 

Save  me  with  thy  deep  embrace ; 

For  down  the  gulfs  of  spirit  space, 

I'/ie  slow,  the  implacable  winds,  now  unescap- 

ably 

Wheel  us  downward  to  our  bliss, 
Whelm  us,  darken  us  —  O  lethal  winds  !  — 

down  to  our  destined  place. 
Swimming  faint,  beneath,  afar  — 
O  lover,  let  there  be 

No  haste,  nor  clamor  of  thy  heart  to  see  ! 
But  I  have  seen,  and  I  whisper  thee 
How  the  rivers  of  peace  apparent  are, 
And  the  city  of  bridal  peace 
Waits,  and  wavers,  and  hardly  is, 
Fades,  and  is' folded  away  from  sight ; 
And  now  like  a  lily  it  openeth  wistfully, 
Whispering  through  its  courts  of  light 
"  How  long  shall  we  be  denied? 
How  long  must  the  eastern  gate  stand  wide, 
Ere  these  who  are  called  shall  enter  in,  and 

the  bridegroom  be  with  the  bride  ?  " 


ACT  III. 

An  open  rocky  place  higher  in  the  mountains ;  in  the 
rock-wall  at  one  side  is  a  rough-hewn  open  tomb ; 
in  the  rear  the  stranded  ark  of  Deukalion,  caught 
amid  great  rocks ,  is  outlined  against  snow-peaks  and 
against  a  vast  sunset  cloud,  full  of  shifting  light. 
The  funeral  train  of  Deukalion  winds  up  the  steep 
path  from  below.  Lykophon  and  a  company  of  grown 
men  carry  the  bier,  beside  which  walk  Pyrrha  and 
jEolus. 

Chorus  of  Old  Men. 
In  one  same  breath 
Uttering  life  and  death, 
Whatso  His  mouth  seems  darkly  to  ordain 
The  darkling  signal  of  His  hand  makes  vain, 
And  like  a  heart  confused  He  sayeth  and 

gainsaith. 

With  himself  He  wrestles  thus 
Or  gives  this  wrestling  unto  us. 
Whichever,  it  is  well. 
O  children,  we  are  risen  out  of  hell, 


8o         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

And  it  is  pleasant  evening  !  Daughters, sing ! 
Upon  his  way  let  soft  and  golden  mirth 
Be  spoken  round  the  king, 
And  unto  heaven  be  told  the  sweetness  of 
the  earth. 

Chorus  of  Girls. 

How  shall  the  thought  of  our  hearts  be 
said, 

Here,  where  this  averted  head 

Lonely  walks  by  the  lonely  dead  ? 

'T  were  better  others  sang, 

Not  we,  not  we  ! 

For  when  the  mighty  morning  sprang 

Terrible  in  gladness  from  the  sea, 

When,  entering  the  high  places  of  the  air, 

Noontide  unbelievably 

Possessed  them,  and  lifted  up  his  trophy 
there,  — 

Yea,  all  the  noon  and  all  the  afternoon, 

We  could  have  put  our  secret  by,  we  could 
have  spoken 

Well  before  thee,  O  mourner,  O  heart 
broken  ! 


THE  FIRE-BR1NGER          81 

But  now,  but  now  —  Mother,  mother, 
We  have  seen  one  coming  with  thee  up  the 

steep ; 

His  mild  great  wing  we  saw  him  keep 
Over  thee  like  a  sheltering  arm, 
And  the  shadow  of  one  pinion  fell  across 
To  shield  the  bosom  of  thy  lord  from  harm  ; 
We  have  seen  him,  the  dark  peace-giver, 

Thanatos ;  — 

But  O,  we  have  seen  also  another, 
Winged  like  him,  and  dazzling  dim, 
He  came  up  out  of  the  sun,  yet  he  goeth 

not  down  therewith ; 
For,  ever  warmer,  closer,  as  the  evening  fall- 

eth  pale, 

His  arm  is  over  our  necks,  and  his  breath 
Searches  whispering  under  our  hair  ;  and  his 

burning  whisper  saith 
•A  thing  that  maketh  the  heart  to  cease  and 

the  limbs  to  fail, 
And  the  hands  to  grope  for  they  know  not 

what ; 
We  would  not  find  what  he  whispers  of,  and 

we  die  if  we  find  it  not ! 


82          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Chorus  of  Young  Women. 
Ere  our  mothers  gave  us  birth, 
Or  in  the  morning  of  the  earth 
The  high  gods  walked  with  the  daughters 

and  found  them  fair, 
Ere  ever  the  hills  were  piled  or  the  seas  were 

spread, 
His  arm  was  over  our  necks,  my  sisters,  his 

breath  was  under  our  hair ! 
Their  spirits  withered  and  died  who  then 
Found  not  the  thing  that  his  whisper  said, 
But  we  are  the  living,  the  chosen  of  life,  who 

found  it  and  found  it  again. 
Where,  walking  secret  in  the  flame, 
Unbearably  the  Titan  came, 
Eros,  Eros,  yet  we  knew  thee, 
Yet  we  saw  and  cried  unto  thee  ! 
Where  thy  face  amid  exceeding  day  more 

excellently  shone 
There  our  still  hearts  laughed  upon  thee, 

thou  divine  despaired-of  one  ! 
Though  o'er  and  o'er  our  eyes  and  ears  the 

heavy  hair  was  wound, 
Yet  we  saw  thee,  yet  we  heard  thy  pinions 

beat! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          83 

Though  our  fore-arms  hid  our  faces  and  our 

brows  were  on  the  ground. 
Yet,  O  Eros,  we  declare 
That  with  flutes  and  timbrels  meet, 
Whirling  garments,  drunken  feet, 
With  tears  and  throes  our  souls  arose  and 

danced  before  thee  there  ! 
(They  place  the  body  in  the  hewn  vault  of  the  rock.} 

Pyrrha. 

Go  down  now.    I  and  jEolus  will  watch 
Till  dawn,  when  ye  will  come  to  shut  the 

tomb 
And  sing  him  to  his  peace. 

Lykophon. 

Some  few  with  thee 
Will  hold  the  watch,  for  safety. 

Pyrrha. 

None.     Alone. 

(The  others  go  down  the  path,  leaving  Pyrrha  and 
JEolus  seated  by  the  tomb  ;  a  girl  lingers  behind, 
and  when  the  last  figure  has  disappeared,  throws 
herself  at  Pyrrha' s  feet. ) 


84         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Rhodope. 

See,  it  is  Rhodope,  thy  handmaiden  ! 
Behold,  thou  knowest.    He  loved  her.    She 
would  stay. 

Pyrrha  (touching  her  head). 
Thy  heart  shall  take  no  fear.  O,  stay  with  us ! 

( The  voices  of  the  young  men  are  heard,  descending.} 

Chorus  of  Young  Men. 
When,  to  the  king's  unveiled  eyes 
The  rended  deeps  and  the  rended  skies 
Seemed  as  a  burning  wood,  — 
lacchos  !     lacchos  ! 
When  flame  took  hold  of  the  place  of  the 

dead, 

And  burning  seized  on  the  throne  of  God, 
And  birds  and  beasts  and  the  souls  of  men 
As  a  wind  of  burning  fled,  — 
lacchos ! 

Yea,  in  the  blinding  radiance  when 
The  Bringer  of  Light  by  the  altar  stood, 
lacchos  !     lacchos  !     Evoe  ! 
We  saw  thee,  we  knew  thee,  we  cried  upon 

thee! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          85 

We  had  lost  thee  and  had  thee  again  ! 

Plucker  of  the  tragic  fruit, 

Eater  of  the  frantic  root, 

Shaker  of  the  cones  of  raving,  sounder  of 

the  panic  flute 
Over  man  and  brute, 
lacchos  ! 

Hunter  in  the  burning  wood, 
Planter  of  the  mystic  vine, 
From  the  spirit  and  the  blood 
Crusher  of  the  awful  wine, 
lacchos  !     Evoe  !     lacchos  ! 

(The  voice  dies  away  in  the  distance.     Silence.} 

ALolus  (whispers  to  Rhodope). 
See'st  thou?  The  cloud! 

(Touching  Pyrrba.) 
Mother,  What  means  the  cloud  ? 

Pyrrha  (raising  her  head). 
How,  child  ? 


The  cloud.     See  how  it  lives  within  ! 


86          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pyrrha. 

'T  will  rain ;  he  brought  us  back  the  blessed 

rain, 
And  storm,  and  natural  darkness,  with  the 

light. 

(Bows  her  head  again.} 

As  also  to  our  hearts  the  shutting-in 
Of  rain  and  natural  darkness. 

Rhodope  (looking  up  from  Pyrrha's  knees). 

All  the  hours 

Since  long  ago  at  dawn,  the  livelong  hours 
Of  glory,   since  he   brought   the  morning 

back, 
The  cloud  has  piled  itself,  and  wondrous 

lights 
Have  been  thus  restless  in  it. 

ALolus. 

Where  is  he  ? 
Pyrrha. 

I   know   not,  child.     It   may  be   that  he 
sleeps, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          87 

Being  weary  ;  or  he  wanders  with  his  love 
To  gaze  upon  the  gladness  of  the  world. 

Rhodope. 
No  one  has  seen  him  since  he  fetched  the 

light. 

They  say  of  him  —  I  heard  the  old  men 
say  — 

Pyrrha. 

The  sun  goes  down :  we  will  be  silent  now. 

(Silence.  JEolus  and  Rhodope,  leaning  together,  fall 
asleep.  Pyrrha  kneels  by  the  tomb,  with  hands 
stretched  aloft  upon  the  king's  breast.} 

Pyrrha  (speaks  low). 

Thou  whom  my  glad  heart  once  deliber 
ately 

Chose,  and  this  morning  suddenly  with 
tears 

Chose,  and  was  chosen,  and  was  made  thine 
at  last 

In  the  destroying  light  —  Deukalion,  lord, 

The  day  is  past,  the  evening  cometh  on. 

Once  more  to  thy  full-wishing  lips  I  hold 


88         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

The  chalice  of  my  heart  up,  husband !  hus 
band  ! 

For  night  begins  to  pour  her  voices  out, 
And  thou  art  stayed  for  on  the  voiceless  hills. 

(She  lifts  her  head  and  listens.      In  the  distance  Pan 
dora9!  voice  is  heard,  sharp  and  agonized.) 

Pyrrha. 

For  thee  too,  then  !     Even  also  for  thee 
He  smote  the  rock ;  thy  spirit  thirsted  too 
Afar  there  in  the  desert  of  thy  joy, 
And  came  and  drank  against  the  morning 

ray 

Waters  of  trembling.    By  the  pools  in  haste 
Thy  soul  stooped,  plucking  herb  and  flower 

of  pain 
That   groweth    newly    there,   by    the    new 

stream  ! 

Rhodope  (runs  with  ^Eolus,  and  crouches  be 
side  Pyrrha). 

Pyrrha  !      Mother  Pyrrha  !     Look,  alas, 
Lo,  how  it  comes  upon  us  !     The  bird  1 
The  bird ! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER          89 

Pyrrha. 

What —  where?     How  suddenly  has  dark 
ness  fallen, 

And  now  as  suddenly  't  is  light  again  ! 
How  terribly  the  lion  thunder  roared 
Leaping  along  the  mountains  to  the  sea  ! 
— What  saw  ye  ?    What  went  by  us  in  the 
wind? 

Rhodope. 

Look  where  the  giant  wings  rock  down  the 
slope ! 

Pyrrha  (gazing  below). 
'  God's  bird  of  wrath !    Swift  is   thy  wrath, 

O  God, 
Strong  is  thy  jealousy  I 

Rhodope. 

Awhile  I  slept ; 
Then   as   I   looked    and  wondered  at  the 

cloud, 
The  restless  lights  flushed   angry,  and  all 

the  west 
Shone  stormy  bright  with  ridges  of  blown  fire. 


90         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

The  cloud  flamed  like  a  peak  of  the  fiery 

isles. 

Where  in  the  western  seas  Hephaestos  toils. 
Then  from  yon  cloven  valley  in  the  midst 
Came  forth  the   wings  and  shadow  of  the 

bird, 
And  grew  towards  us  vaster  than  storm,  more 

swift 

Than  I  could  cry  upon  him,  and  passed  down. 
Once    o'er    the   plain    and  o'er   the  ocean 

straits, 

And  twice  o'er  the  old  olives  by  the  stream 
Where  the  folk  rest   to-night,  his   shadow 

wheeled, 
And  now  he  towers  straight  upward  like  a 

smoke, 
High,  high,  into  the  evening. 

(Pandora's  cry  is  heard  again ;  she  appears  in  the 
rocks  above  the  tomb,  gazing  upward.  After  a  mo 
ment  she  comes  down  and  kneels  beside  Pyrrha, 
hiding  her  face  against  the  rocks.  Pause.) 

Pyrrha  (in  a  low  voice,  gazing  at  the  cloud), 

Deemest  thou 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         91 

That  he  will  yield  himself  unmurmuring 

up, 
Or  will  he  make  wild  war  along  the  peaks  ? 

(Prometheus  enters  swiftly  from  below,  and  raises 
Pandora.  They  stand  clasped  in  each  other's  arms 
beside  Pyrrha,  who,  still  kneeling,  draws  herself 
up  to  gaze  into  the  king's  face,  then  clasps  jEolus 
with  one  arm  and  with  the  other  the  knees  of  Pro 
metheus?) 

Pyrrha. 

Leave  us  not  yet,  before  another  dawn 
Comes,  bringing  surety  !  For  the  giant  dark, 
Seeing  thee  absent,  may  arise  again, 
And  Python  lift  unnameably  his  head 
In  hell,  hearing  the  gods  hiss  him  awake. 

Prometheus. 

Be  comforted ;  it  is  established  sure. 
Light  shall  arise  from  light,  day  follow  day, 
Season  meet  season,  with  all  lovely  signs 
And  portents  of  the  year.    These  shall  not 

fail; 
From  their  appointed  dance  no  star  shall 

swerve, 


92          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Nor  mar  one  accent  of  one  whirling  strophe 
Of  that  unfathomed  chorus  that  they  sing 
Within  the  porch  and  laughing  house  of 

Life, 
Which  Time  and  Space  and  Change,  bright 

caryatids, 
Do  meanwhile  pillar  up.    These  shall  not 

fail; 
But  O,  these  were  the  least  I  brought  you 

home ! 

The  sun  whose  rising  and  whose  going  down 
Are  joy  and  grief  and  wonder  in  the  heart; 
The  moon  whose  tides  are  passion,  thought, 

and  will ; 

The  signs  and  portents  of  the  spirit  year,  — 
For  these,  if  you  would  keep  them,  you 

must  strive 

Morning  and  night  against  the  jealous  gods 
With  anger,  and  with  laughter,  and  with 

love ; 
And  no  man  hath  them  till  he  brings  them 

down 
With  love,  and  rage,  and  laughter  from  the 

heavens,  — 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         93 

Himself  the  heavens,  himself  the  scornful 

gods, 

The  sun,  the  sun-thief,  and  the  flaming  reed 
That  kindles  new  the  beauty  of  the  world. 

(He  draws  /So/us  and  Rhodope  to  him.) 
For  you  the  moon  stilly  imagineth 
Her  loiterings  and  her  soft  vicissitudes  ; 
For  you  the  Pleiades  are  seven,  and  one 
Wanders  invisible  because  of  you  ; 
For  you    the  snake   is    burnished    in    the 

spring, 
The  flower  has  plots  touching  its  marriage 

time, 
The  queen-bee    from    her  wassailed    lords 

soars  high 

And  high  and  high  into  the  nuptial  blue, 
Till  only  one  heroic  lover  now 
Flies  with  her,  and  her  royal  wish  is  prone 
To  the  elected  one,  whose  dizzy  heart 
Presageth  him  of  ecstasy  and  death. 
For  you  the  sea  has  rivers  in  the  midst, 
And  fathomless  abysses  where  it  breeds 
Fantastic  life ;  and  each  its  tiniest  drop 
Flung  from  the  fisher's  oar-blade  in  the  sun 


94         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Has  rivers,  abysses,  and  fantastic  life. 
For  your  sakes  it  was  spoken  of  the  soul 
That  it  shall  be  a  sea  whereon  the  moon 
Has  might,  and  the  four,  winds  shall  walk 

upon  it,  — 

Also  it  has  great  rivers  in  the  midst, 
Uncharted  islands  that  no  sailor  sees, 
And  fathomless  abysses  where  it  breeds 
Mysterious  life ;  yea,  each  its  tiniest  drop 
Flung  from   the   fisher's  par-blade  in   the 

^  sun  ^ 

Has  rivers,  tempests,  and  eternal  tides, 
Untouched-at  isles,  horizons  never  hailed, 
And  fathomless  abysses  where  it  breeds 
Incredible  life,  without  astonishment. 
(He  bends  over  Deukalion.) 

O  death,  majestic  mood  !  Transfigured  brow 
And  eyes  heavy  with  vision,  since  the  time 
They  saw  creation  sitting  like  a  sphinx, 
Woman  and  lion,  riddling  of  herself 
At  twilight,  in  the  place  of  parted  souls  — 
(He  pauses,  looks  at  the  lighted  cloud,  and  below  at 

the  darkening  earth,  where  a  mist  is  beginning  to 

rise.) 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         95 

As  far  as  being  goes  out  past  the  stars 
Into  unthinkable  distance,  and  as  far 
As  being  inward  goes  unthinkably, 
Traveling  the  atom  to  its  fleeing  core. 
Through  world  in  world,  heaven  beneath 

wheeling  heaven, 

Firmament  under  firmament,  without  end, — 
To-day  there  is  rejoicing,  and  the  folk, 
Though  ignorant,  call  us  blessed  in  their 

hearts. 

Yea,  He  who  is  the  Life  of  all  this  life, 
Death  of  this  death  and  Riser  from  this 

death, 

Calleth  us  blessed  in  his  heart  of  hearts  ; 
And  once  again,  in  the  dim  end  of  things, 
When  the  sun  sickens,  and  the  heaven  of 

heavens 

Flames  as  a  frosty  leaf  unto  the  fall, 
In   swoon   and  anguish  shall    his  stormed 

heart 

Cry  unto  us;  his  cry  is  ringing  there 
In  the  sun's  core  !   I  heard  it  when  I  stood 
Where  all  things  past  and  present  and  to 

come 


96         THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Ray  out  in  fiery  patterns,  fading,  changing, 
Forevermore  unfaded  and  unchanged. 

ALolus. 
Behold,  alas,  mother,  look  up ! 

0  haste,  let  us  be  hidden  in  the  rocks ! 

Pyrrha. 

The  wings  that  were  a  little  cloud  in  heaven 
Shed  doom  over  the  third  part  of  the  north  ; 
And  now  he  slants  enormous  down  the  west 
Toward  his  throne  and  eyrie  in  the  cloud. 

(/«  the  background^  about  the  ark  of  Deukalion,  the 
figures  of  the  Stone  Men  and  Earth  Women  emerge, 
and  stand  darkly  outlined  against  the  sunset  cloud. 
Prometheus  speaks  low  to  Pandora,  who  falls  at 
his  feet.} 

Pandora. 

1  would  be  there  with  thee,  love.    O,  not 

here ! 

Prometheus  (stooping  over  her). 
There   where  I  go   thou   art ;   there,  even 
now 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         97 

Thou  cried'st  me   to   thee,  and  I  come,  I 
come. 

(He  lays  her  in  Pyrrha's  arms,  and  disappears  in 
the  rocks',  be  emerges  on  a  higher  level  behind, 
and  turns  westward?) 

(Pausing  beside  the  ark?) 

0  rude  and  dazed  spirits  !    Ye  shall  grope 
And  wonder  toward  a  knowledge  and  a  grace 
That  now  we  dream  not  of;  then  loneliness 
Shall  flee  away,  and  enmity  no  more 

Be  spectral  in  the  houses  and  the  streets 
Where  walk  your  primal  hearts  in  the  large 

light 
That  floods  the  after-earth. 

(He  raises  his  arms  over  them?) 

Out  of  these  stones 

1  build  my  rumoring  city,  based  deep 
On  elemental  silence ;  in  this  soil 

I  plant  my  cool  vine  and  my  shady  tree, 
Whose  roots   shall   feed  upon   the  central 

fire! 

(He  crosses  a  rocky  stretch  leading  to  the  western 
heights  over  which  the  cloud  rests,  and  disappears 


98          THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

in  a  mist  -filled  pass.  JEolus  and  Rhodope  creep 
closer  to  Pyrrha  and  Pandora,  sheltering  themselves 
from  the  chill  of  the  rising  mist,  which  slowly  covers 
the  scene.  There  is  a  long  silence,  broken  by  faint 
peals  of  thunder.) 

Molus  (whispers). 
Mother,  the  mist  was   gray  and  thick  to 

breathe 

But  now  ;  and  now  't  is  thin,  and  flushes  red 
As  if  all  round  the  forests  were  aflame. 

Rhodope  (whispers). 
Hush  !    See'st  thou  not  it  is   the   mighty 

cloud, 
That  flames  more  fiery  when  the  thunder 

speaks  ? 

{Heavy  thunder ;   Pandora  starts  wildly  up.) 

Pyrrha  (drawing  her  down). 
Thou  spirit  bird,  that  sangest  all  night  long 
And  mad'st  sweet  utterance  from  the  secret 

shade 
Where  his  wild  heart  spread  coolness  in  the 

sun. 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER         99 

For  thee  to  flit   and   sing,  —  O  look   not 

out! 
Still  hide  thee  in  my  breast ! 

(Pandora  sinks  back.    Pyrrba  whispers  to  Rkodope.*) 
Rise  thou,  and  look  ! 

Rhodope  (rises  and  speaks  in  a  low  voice). 
Over  against  the  region  where  he  went 
Thunder  has  torn  the  curtain  of  the  mist, 
And    out    of  moving   darkness    soars    the 

cloud 

Like  as  a  shadowed  ruby,  but  above 
Like  as  an  opal  and  a  sardine  stone 
Sun-touched  to  the  panting  heart ;  and  in 

the  midst 
Are  shapes  throned  on  the  moving  of  the 

lights, 
Who  ride  the  wrathful  lights,  and  are  the 

lights. 

Up  through  the  driving  fringes  of  the  mist 
Battle  a  living  splendor  and  a  gloom. 
O,  while  the  shapes  gather  and  wait  at  gaze, 
That  pharos  of  our  peril  in  the  straits, 
That  treader  of  the  cups  of  gladness  out 


ioo        THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

In   the  sun's  vineyard    for  us — Mother! 

Mother ! 

Look  hither,  look  at  last,  for  it  is  time. 
Up  through  the  crud  and  substance  of  the 

cloud 

Prometheus  wrestles  with  the  bird  of  God ! 
(Pyrrha  rises,  lifting  Pandora.') 

Molus. 
Look  how  the  sudden  wind  has  quenched 

the  cloud, 
And  them  that  were  therein ;  and  how  its 

blowing 
Shoulders   the   mist  away   from    the    keen 

stars 

That  rushed  out  at  the  fading  of  the  lights  ! 
Look  you,  the  cloud  comes  on  us  in  the 

wind ! 

It  tramples  down  the  mountains,  and  above 
Reaches  abroad  in  darkness,  blotting  out 
Place  upon  place  of  stars. 

Rhodope. 

The  smoky  air 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER        101 

Climbs  up  and  eddies  round  us  and  falls 

down, 
Rolling  and  spreading  wider  than  the  world ! 

(As  the  cloud  advances,  Pandora  goes  toward  it  with 
outstretched  hands,  and  pauses  beside  the  prow  of 
the  ark,  among  the  Stone  Men  and  Earth  Women, 
while  deeper  and  deeper  darkness  drifts  over  the 
scene.  The  voices  ofPyrrha  and  Pandora  are  heard 
as  from  the  midst  of  the  cloud.) 

Pyrrha. 

Vast  sorrow,  and  the  voice  of  broken  souls  ; 
A  cry  as  of  all  kinds  and  generations, 
Times,  places,  and  tongues ;  or  as  a  mother 
Heareth  her  unborn  child  crying  for  birth. 

Pandora  (sings). 
A  thousand  <eons,  nailed  in  pain 
On  the  blown  world's  plunging  prow, 
That  seeks  across  the  eternal  main,  — 
Down  whatever  storms  we  drift. 
What  disastrous  headlands  lift, 
Festal  lips,  triumphant  brow, 
Light  us  with  thy  joy,  as  now  ! 


102       THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pyrrha. 

A  sound  of  calling  and  of  answering ; 
Answer  or  watch-cry  of  all  desperate  lives 
To  God,  and  God  to  them  calling  or  an 
swering. 

(The  Stone  Men  and  Earth  Women  sing,  their  voices 
growing  fainter  as  they  descend  the  valley  behind.} 

<The  Stone  Men  and  Earth  Women. 

We  have  heard  the  valleys  groan 
With  one  voice  and  manifold ; 
Stone  is  crying  unto  stone. 
Mould  is  whispering  unto  mould. 

The  Stone  Men. 

Hear  them  whisper  >  hear  them  call, 
"  All  for  one,  and  one  for  all, 
Dig  the  well  and  raise  the  wall." 

'The  Earth  Women. 

"  For  the  nations  to  be  born. 
Root  away  the  bitter  thorn. 
Reap  and  sow  the  golden  corn." 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER        103 

Rhodope  (to  Pyrrha). 
Hear'st  thou  this  yet  that  thou  didst  whis 

per  of, 

Or  is  all  silence  now  even  to  thee  ? 
(Pyrrha  does  not  answer.    Pandora's  voice  is  heard, 
also  from  the  valley  behind,  but  more  distant.} 

Pandora  (sings). 
/  stood  within  the  heart  of  God  ; 
It  seemed  a  place  that  I  had  known  : 
(I  was  blood-sister  to  the  clod, 
Blood-brother  to  the  stone?) 

I  found  my  love  and  labor  there, 
My  house,  my  raiment,  meat  and  wine, 
My  ancient  rage,  my  old  despair,  — 
Tea,  all  things  that  were  mine. 


Rhodope  (to 

Doth  not  the  cloud  go  by  us  ?     Yonder, 

see, 
A  star  looks   dimly  through.    And  there, 

and  there 
'T  is  all  awake  with  stars  ! 


104        THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Pandora  (sings). 

/  saw  the  spring  and  summer  pass, 
The  trees  grow  bare,  and  winter  come  ; 
All  was  the  same  as  once  it  was 
Upon  my  hills  at  home. 

Then  suddenly  in  my  own  heart 
I  felt  God  walk  and  gaze  about ; 
He  spoke ;  His  words  seemed  held  apart 
With  gladness  and  with  doubt. 

"  Here  is  my  meat  and  wine"  He  said, 
"  My  love,  my  toil,  my  ancient  care ; 

Here  is  my  cloak,  my  book,  my  bed, 

And  here  my  old  despair. 

"  Here  are  my  seasons  :  winter,  spring. 
Summer  the  same,  and  autumn  spills 
The  fruits  I  look  for ;  everything 
As  on  my  heavenly  hills. 

Rhodope. 

How  swiftly  now, 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER        105 

As  if  it  had  a  meaning  in  its  haste. 
The  cloud-bank  fades  and  dwindles  in  the 
north ! 

(Starlight  and  silence.  After  a  time,  dawn  begins  to 
break  in  the  east.  Pyrrba  rises  and  kneels  again 
by  the  tomb.  As  the  light  increases,  £olus  and 
Rhodope  climb  higher  among  the  rocks  and  watch 
for  the  rising  of  the  sun.  Below,  the  voices  of  the 
young  men  are  heard.) 

Chorus  of  Young  Men  (ascending). 
One  large  last  star,  not  yet  persuaded  well, 
Expected    till    the    mountains    should    de 
clare  ; 

But  from  his  hesitant  attitude, 
From  his  wild  and  waiting  mood, 
Wildly,  waitingly  there  came 
Over  sea  and  earth  and  air 
And  on  our  bended  hearts  there  fell 
Trembling  and  expectation  of  thy  name, 
Apollo  ! 

Now  the  East  to  the  West  has  flung 
Sudden  hands  aloft,  and  sung 
Thy  titles,  and  thy  certain  coming-on ; 


io6       THE  FIRE-BRINGER 

Wheeling  ever  to  the  right  hand,  wheeling 

ever  to  the  dawn, 

The  South  has  danced  before  the  North, 
And  the  text  of  her  talking  feet  is  the  news 

of  thy  going  forth, 
Apollo  !  Apollo  !  Apollo  ! 

When  radiance  hid  the  Titan's  face 
And  all  was  blind  in  the  altar  place, 
Then  we  knew  thee,  O  we  cried  upon  thee 

then, 

Apollo!  Apollo! 
Past  thee  Dionysus  swept, 
The  wings  of  Eros  stirred  and  slept, 
And  we  knew  not  the  mist  of  thy  song  from 

the  mist  of  the  fire, 
As  out  of  the  core  of  the  light  thy  lyre 

laughed  and  thundered  again ! 

Eros,  how  sweet 
Is  the  cup  of  thy  drunkenness  ! 
Dionysus,  how  our  feet 
Hasten  to  the  burning  cup 
Thou  liftest  up  ! 


THE  FIRE-BRINGER        107 

But  O  how  sweetest  and  how  most  burning 
it  is 

To  drink  of  the  wine  of  thy  lightsome  chal 
ices, 

Apollo  !  Apollo  !   To-day 

We  say  we  will  follow  thee  and  put  all 
others  away. 

For  thou  alone,  O  thou  alone  art  he 

Who  settest  the  prisoned  spirit  free, 

And  sometimes  leadest  the  rapt  soul  on 

Where  never  mortal  thought  has  gone ; 

Till  by  the  ultimate  stream 

Of  vision  and  of  dream 

She  stands 

With  startled  eyes  and  outstretched  hands, 

Looking  where  other  suns  rise  over  other 
lands, 

And  rends  the  lonely  skies  with  her  pro 
phetic  scream. 


(£br  BitersiDc  press 

Electrotyped  and  printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &*  Co. 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


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